In an age or Rich Lists, what exactly do we mean by rich? In current English usage, it's not enough to say someone is rich; he must be "seriously rich." But what constitutes serious wealth? One magnate I know lays it down thus: "If you know exactly how much you are worth, you're not seriously rich." I've heard figures like $100 million mentioned ($50 million is too low, they say). The ancients had a phrase, "as rich as Croesus." Croesus was King of Lydia, whence came the metal mixture electrum used for the first Greek coinages, and his wealth was measured by his generous donations to religious shrines. Another billionaire of antiquity, Herod the Great, astounded his contemporaries by the huge public works programs he financed from his private resources. He was an important figure in the social security programs for which Jewish communities--making up about 10% of the Roman Empire's population at that time--were famous.

Conspicuous Largesse

The richest individuals tend to become identified as such by their conspicuous donations. Andrew Carnegie, who sold out his steelinterests to the conglomerate that became U.S. Steel Corp. in the early 20th century, was probably the richest man of his time, in cash terms. He held that, while it was legitimate to accumulate a vast fortune, a "man who dies rich dies disgraced." Carnegie gave most of his fortune away--more than $350 million in his lifetime--and the list of his donations (including 7,689 church organs and 2,811 publiclibrary buildings) fills a sizable book. The late John Paul Getty was called "Britain's richest man," largely because his gifts to art galleries and other public institutions were so munificent. But some rich-watchers argue that the most "seriously rich" are those who keep low profiles, give nothing away and lead quiet lives well away from the media. These rich would regard appearing on any rich list as a failure.

My experience is that the rich themselves are extremely interested (and competitive) about wealth totals. Purportedly, when John D. Rockefeller, certainly the richest man of his day, read in the papers that J. Pierpont Morgan had left an estate of $100 million, barely enough to cover the benefactions of his will, he exclaimed, "Well, and to think that Mr. Morgan was not even a wealthy man!"

Only the wisest tycoons are noncompetitive; most compete in ways that have varied over the centuries. Among 15th-century Florentine bankers, there was rivalry over the splendor of the altarpieces they commissioned for their private chapels. Angelo Tani engaged Hans Memling to paint a magnificent "Last Judgment," now the pride of the National Museum in Gdansk, Poland. Tani's rival, Tommaso Portinari, commissioned Hugo van der Goes to paint an even more elaborate "Adoration of the Shepherds," a triptych which, when fully unfolded, is nearly 30 feet wide. It required 16 porters to carry it across Florence, as the citizens, who were very interested in comparative wealth, carefully noted.

Conspicuous Consumption

Today, in terms of London or Parisian splendor, a magnate who has $300 million to his name can comfortably be considered among the superrich and can conduct himself accordingly. But if he wishes to occupy such a position among the financial elite of New York or Palm Beach, he must have at least $1 billion. This, it is said, is the reason media titan Conrad Black had to go to such lengths to finance his lifestyle from the funds of his business.

The tenets of conspicuous consumption require not only that the rich person be conscious or hyperconscious of wealth but also that others recognize his ability to spend lavishly. The Greek shipping king Aristotle Onassis, it is said, married Jackie Kennedy as an act of conspicuous consumption. I've also heard that when entertaining a journalist aboard his yacht, Christina, Onassis liked to plunk down a huge pot of caviar and encourage the journalist to eat it by the spoonful. "Don't stint yourself," he'd say, "I can afford it."

But none of this answers the question, "When is a person rich?" In Jane Austen's day--when society was as upwardly mobile (and just as watchful for signs of wealth) as it is today--a tradesman's success was reached when he "set up his carriage," something requiring a stable, horses, a coachman, grooms and the vehicle itself. This act marked the point at which a family changed class in a decisive way. An important part of the plot of Emma hinges on news of the decision by Mr. Perry, a local man of business who is rising into gentility, to take this financial step, with its profound social implications. In Austen's day there were a number of such manifest indicators. To be considered seriously rich, one had to have an income of £10,000 a year. This was Mr. Darcy's position in Pride and Prejudice. In comparison, Mr. Bingley, who was merely rich, had £4,000 or £5,000 a year.

There are no such clear markers nowadays. Nor are possessions certain indicators. In the heyday of the Mellons, it wasn't enough to have a painting by Titian--you had to possess a Giorgione (much rarer). Today a seriously rich man must own a Van Gogh, a Cézanne or, at the very least, an "early" Picasso.

My idea of being rich--or at least of feeling rich--is to have no debts, mortgage or overdraft and to be able to pay all bills by return post. This may seem a fairly modest ambition, but if everyone in the West were in this position our societies would indeed merit the term "affluent," and the world would be a much happier place.

Paul Johnson, eminent British historian and author, Lee Kuan Yew, minister mentor, Singapore; and Ernesto Zedillo, director, Yale Center for the Study of Globalization, former president of Mexico; in addition to Forbes Chairman Caspar W. Weinberger, rotate in writing this column. To see past Current Events columns, visit our Web site at www.forbes.com/currentevents.

Stock quotes are delayed at least 15 minutes for Nasdaq, at least 20 minutes for NYSE/AMEX.
U.S. indexes are delayed at least 15 minutes with the exception of Nasdaq, Dow Jones Industrial Average and S&P 500 which are 2 minutes delayed.